nuance
by sunspots and raindrops
Summary: Often, the clearest things are overlooked because we are living in a world without black and white, a geography of grey areas and sorrow; living in a world where we forget how to see the color, the beauty, the love in every action. So if we stop reading between the lines, maybe we could see what they were actually saying in the first place. — [Lucina/Inigo] COMPLETE.
1. pitch black

Inigo had been in love for far too long.

Each day he woke, thinking that today would be _the_ day, the day he got over her, the day he could look at what he must never touch without his heart breaking. He is his mother's son – shy, self-deprecating, and so he felt it in his bones – Lucina was not his to love. The son of a dancer and a thief could never, _should_ never, reach out for the divine. She is of royal blood, branded with Naga's mark, and he… is no one. The chasm between gutter-born and princess is far too great, he reminds himself. He has no right to love her.

But there came a day when things changed, for like all rules, his had been made to be broken.

* * *

They were up before dawn in the practice yard, the two of them the best with the sword out of their group (despite Owain's boasts to the contrary, he couldn't be bothered to wake before first light anyway.) It is unsaid but clear that this is no leisurely training session – there are lives to protect, innumerable enemies to defeat, a war to be won.

As the sun rose, they were both breathing hard, and he did his best _not_ to watch a bead of sweat travel south of her throat and into the neckline of her shirt. "I think we should take a break," he suggested mildly, stretching his arms above his head and making his way to the flask of water he'd brought.

She sighed from behind him, "Fine."

He flopped onto the rough-hewn bench and the water was halfway to his lips when he paused; noticing Lucina hadn't brought anything for herself, he offered it to her, "Want some?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, securing her training sword in her belt as if it were a real weapon. He presented the water with an outstretched arm and she stopped, "Just a moment." Shedding her long sleeves, she reached for the leather thong around her wrist and then behind her head to secure the navy tresses there.

"Here let me," Inigo uttered without thinking, and suddenly he was standing behind her, slender fingers captured by his own callused ones. He cursed himself when she stilled, and hurriedly explained, "I know what I'm doing! I used to do the other girls' hair all the time, remember?"

"Well… not particularly," she admitted, but relinquished the tie regardless, dropping her hands to her sides.

The words kept tumbling from his lips in an attempt to conceal his nervousness, "Well, I did, until... There was this one time when we were kids – play-sword-fighting with sticks in the garden…" He gently removed her circlet, carefully placing it on the bench to their right. After lightly finger-combing her hair he began to plait it, a snicker escaping him as he continued the story, "And Owain picked a branch that still had twigs and leaves like a _complete_ dork… and it got stuck in Kjelle's hair after one of his 'signature moves'?"

Lucina emitted a soft gasp, "I forgot all about that."

He chuckled – a rumble from deep in his chest that even she could feel. "And instead of letting someone try to untangle it… Kjelle just calmly pulled a real blade out of her tunic and hacked the whole mess off!" After securing the French braid he'd woven, Inigo smoothed it down from the crown of her head, pausing for moment at the nape of her neck to brush away the stray strands there. "Cyn and Severa were _horrified_ , especially since… well, you know Kjelle. It was no big deal to her. And suddenly it was pigtail-city around here!" he laughed, gently turning her around. He reached to pick up her diadem from beside them, avoiding Lucina's gaze as he replaced it in her hair, the action almost reverent.

"There," he said with a small smile, fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long as their eyes met. "Besides," he continued in what was almost a whisper, letting his hand fall, "I would help my mother braid her hair before she'd teach me her dances… you know, before she and father..." Unable to finish, he cleared his throat, looking away uncomfortably.

"Inigo," Lucina said quietly, reaching for his arm, but he turned away, a hand hurriedly dashing across his face as he interjected "Anyway!" before she could say anything else. "I have plenty of practice, so your hair should be safely out of the way for today!" he said, taking a seat on the bench with a smile that seemed far too bright. She hadn't missed the way his eyes had darkened in pain or how the back of his hand glistened with moisture, but she kept her thoughts to herself and took the flask he was offering to her for a second time.

"Thank you," she said, sitting beside him.

"Anytime, my princess," he proclaimed, the laughter back in his voice but sounding hollow. "There is nothing I would not do for a lady, especially one as charming as you!" Lucina turned to regard him incredulously, and he just responded with a smirk and an exaggerated wink.

Sighing resignedly, she ignored his mock-salacious gestures and changed the subject. "After this, would you be willing to use your other style of swordplay? I think that's one area I need to brush up on fighting against, especially since it's the usual style of assassins."

"Ah, you mean like this?" he asked, standing up and gripping the hilt of his practice sword with the pommel toward his body and the blade extending out to his right.

"Yes, exactly," Lucina confirmed, standing as well to draw her sword. "I've had enough leisure, if you're ready to continue."

"Of course, my lady," he agreed with a flamboyant bow and a wide-toothed grin.

"Inigo!" she snapped, her eyes screwing shut, "Would you _please_ stop playing around? This isn't a game! People's lives are at stake, and it's our duty to protect them!"

His smile faltered during her admonishment, and he inclined his head apologetically, red bangs falling to partially obscure his face. "I meant no offense, princess. Just trying to lighten the mood." He ran his fingers aimlessly over his sword's cross-guard, eyes firmly trained on the repetitive motion as he spoke under his breath, "I _know_ lives are at stake."

Immediately, she regretted her rash words. Hadn't he _just_ mentioned his parents' deaths a few minutes earlier? She mentally berated herself, taking a deep breath and preparing to apologize.

Once again, though, he spoke up before she had a chance to truly gather her thoughts. "Well, I would never want you to be less-than-perfectly prepared to face an assassin! Let's get started, then, shall we?" he beamed at her and crouched, holding his sword at the ready.

"Alright," Lucina acquiesced, deciding to let it go for the moment and settling into her own stance. "Let's."

* * *

The sun was merciless as it continued its ascent, and Inigo couldn't help but think that it had always been easier when they let their swords do the talking. Times like this were when he felt the closest to her, their blades and bodies meeting, parrying, moving around each other in what seemed like a dance. They could be honest here, they could be **equals** here – just him and her, Inigo and Lucina, no titles or etiquette to abide by. There were no questions of his worth, and it felt so good to forget, for a brief interlude, that he could never truly be a part of her world.

But his reverie was rudely interrupted by the telltale sound of hooves clattering into the main courtyard, a messenger frantically shouting for the princess. And she had always been strong, resilient, composed, even when they were children, but Inigo could easily see the panic in her face when her gaze flew to his. There was true, soul-shattering fear behind the rich blue of her eyes, Naga's brand burning in the depths of insecurity.

"Lucina…" had barely left his lips, but she had already dropped her sword and whipped around to race toward the entryway. His face pained, he watched her for a moment before following suit, praying to Naga and anyone who he hoped against hope would listen that this was not the news he thought it might be.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a first "tester" chapter from a baby drabble that turned into a little more than a drabble! I absolutely LOVE Lucina and Inigo together, and thus this little project was born.

Each chapter is 1-2k words, so not too long; there are currently three chapters written and I don't plan on it being more than five. There will not be _major_ spoilers as this will take place in the children's future (not the future past, but the future they originally came from.)

I couldn't find credit for the cover image, so if you know, _please let me know_!

Just FYI, this is based off of the supports I cultivated in my latest play-through, therefore parentage is as follows:

Gaius/Olivia - Inigo

Chrom/Robin - Lucina (& Morgan, but he won't appear)

Henry/Sumia - Cynthia

Lon'qu/Cherche - Gerome

Frederick/Lissa - Owain

Stahl/Cordelia - Severa

Virion/Sully - Kjelle

Gregor/Tharja - Noire

Vaike/Panne - Yarne

Ricken/Maribelle - Brady

aaaand that's it because I was playing on hard and didn't care about getting Laurent that time around haha. Also, I'm not saying every child is going to be well-developed or focused on or even appear at all in this, since it's so short, but I'm just covering all my bases :D

 **ANYWAY** hopefully someone out there enjoys this little ditty! As it's mostly written, I will be uploading a chapter every Saturday. Thanks for reading!


	2. opaque

Squinting as his vision adjusted to the dark interior of the entrance hall, Inigo finally slowed his sprint to a brisk walk. He ran in his hand through his still-sweat-dampened bangs, half out of necessity and half out of frustration and anxiety, straining his ears to follow the sound of Lucina's footsteps. But it was quiet, too quiet, and his brow furrowed as he rounded the corner toward the main doors. _There,_ and he increased his pace, finally hearing labored breathing and hushed tones.

Some of the others had trickled in – Gerome, Cynthia, Severa, and Kjelle were in a semi-circle; curious, worried, observing from a small distance. But his gaze was firmly trained on the two figures by the doors – the messenger, still struggling for breath, and Lucina with her hands tightly fisted in the man's shirt as the rest of her body shook almost imperceptibly.

Inigo slowed as he neared, hearing her desperately rasp, "What happened? Is it about my parents?"

"My lady… they…" the messenger trailed off and looked away, as if he could not bear to meet her eyes.

"Please," Lucina urged, "tell me, what happened?" When he only hung his head in defeat, she was near to screaming, physically shaking him, "What happened?! I command you! Tell me what happened!"

For fear she would snap the man's head off, Inigo carefully placed his hands on hers, gently prying her fingers from their grip at the messenger's shoulders. At his touch, she whipped to face him, her eyes wild and hands gripping his anxiously. "Lucina," he began softly, his face pained, "that's enough."

"But, Inigo," she pled, lips trembling. "He won't… he won't…" she broke off, eyes welling up with tears, looking into the deep brown of his eyes as if for reassurance that this wasn't real, that everything was going to be okay, the desperation of a child wanting to be woken from a nightmare. And it broke Inigo's heart, broke it into a thousand tiny pieces; but all he could do was stare back at her. There were no empty promises he could offer, no words that would make this any better.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , a gloved hand appeared at his elbow. "Inigo," Gerome said under his breath, "Look around us." Finally noticing their surroundings once again, he saw that a small crowd had gathered in addition to their friends, everyone whispering furtively. "We need to get this under control," Gerome continued, face imperceptible as always beneath his mask. Inigo nodded, turning back to Lucina as Gerome went to the messenger to confirm what they already suspected.

"Lucina," he began gently, "take a few deep breaths for me, okay?" Inigo let his chest rise and fall exaggeratedly as he watched to make sure she followed his instructions, and as she did, he gave her hands a brief squeeze. "Good. I'm going to let go in a second," he warned, eyes meeting Gerome's over her head as the wyvern rider shook his head, his mouth twisted in a grimace. "Just keep your eyes on me, Lucina; can you do that?" She bit her lip, head inclining in a slight nod, eyes still bright with unshed tears.

He reluctantly released Lucina's hand and turned to face the gawkers as Gerome addressed them. "The exalt and his wife have been slain in battle," he informed them gravely. A shocked gasp went up from the crowd, but he continued, "We mourn their loss, and pledge our honor to the new exalt, Princess Lucina. Long may she reign!" At this, Gerome turned toward her and sank to one knee, a hand going over his heart, "My fealty is yours, my lady," he swore.

The rest of the room followed suit with murmured promises of loyalty, including Inigo. Peering up through his bangs at Lucina, he saw the shock still etched into every line of her body. After a few moments, the majority of onlookers dispersed, presumably to inform the rest of the Ylisstol's inhabitants of the news, and yet Lucina still just stood there, staring out at nothing. Appearing suddenly at their side as if he were an apparition, Gerome gestured toward the Cynthia and the others, "We can handle things here. You take care of Lucina."

Nodding thankfully, Inigo rose to tug at one of her hands, "Come, princess, let's get you to your rooms," he urged, trying to force a note of cheerfulness into his tone. She acquiesced, albeit silently and stumbling, but he would take what he could get, just hoping she could keep it together until they were in private.

Inigo had never been so thankful for their childhood games, for now he knew just how to move through the palace without being seen, and in a few brief minutes, they were at Lucina's door. He used his free hand to turn the handle, pushing the door the rest of the way open with his shoulder. A maid was sweeping the hearth as they entered, and seeing their grave faces, she immediately obeyed when Inigo ordered her to leave them.

As the door shut with a dull thunk, Lucina sank to the floor, her clammy grip on his hand taking him with her. Sitting there on the cold flagstones she asked, almost as if directing the question to herself, "Are they… are they really gone?" Inigo squeezed her hand as he moved closer to her, aching to comfort her somehow. Seeing her this way… it was unnerving, and he felt helpless.

"Lucina…" he sighed, reaching out to touch her face but stopping a hairsbreadth away when she glanced up at him. He could not bring himself to say anything, and they simply looked at each other for a few moments.

Not taking her eyes off of his, she finally whispered, "Father… Mother… they're really… they really–" she broke off with a strangled noise, tearing her hand from his to cover her face. "They're really gone," she whispered brokenly from behind her fingers. Silent tears slid down her jaw for a moment, but she gasped for breath before continuing, "I'm all alone… Alone..." The final word was uttered with such heart-wrenching despair that it made something in Inigo snap.

No longer caring what was proper or appropriate, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder. He closed his eyes, his voice soft as he said, "Lucina, I'm sorry."

It was pathetic, but it was all he could offer her, and he just held her, trying to stave off the flow of his own tears. _I have to be strong for_ _her_ _, now,_ he thought. Because despite the intimacy of their situation, he had not forgotten her place – the place made so painfully obvious by Gerome's words earlier. The people would be reeling from the loss, and they would be looking to her, to their exalt, to be their pillar of strength, their beacon of hope. And so Inigo resolved in his heart that he would be _her_ s, to the extent of his ability.

For a while, they simply sat that way, the room silent except for an occasional sniffle or shaky inhalation, and Inigo continued to caress her head in a way he hoped would soothe her to some extent.

Suddenly pulling back, Lucina wiped her face with the back of her hand and turned, making to stand up. "Sorry, Inigo, I don't know what came over me, I really need to get out there, I need to address the people, I don't have time to act so childishly–"

But Inigo wasn't having any of that, and he told her as much, yanking her backwards down into his lap, his arms like iron bands around her ribs. "Stop," he said, his tone serious, filtering through the navy locks covering her ear. "Lucina. Listen to me. You are not being childish. It's okay." Pausing to inhale deeply, he offered what little assurance he could, "You don't have to be strong in front of me. It's okay to be upset. I don't think any less of you, and I never will. You may be the exalt now, but you are still my _friend_ and I care about you." Partially releasing his hold on her, he nudged her so she would turn around. "So let it out here. You can cry, you can scream, you can even hit me if you think it would help. I won't tell anyone. And I know how you feel, remember?" he finished softly.

She looked down at her hands, seeming to contemplate his offer. And when Lucina looked up, she did something he did not expect – she leaned into his torso, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder, arms meeting behind his neck. "Thank you," she said, voice muffled by his shirt. "Could you maybe just… stay like this for a bit?" she asked tentatively.

Bringing his fingers up to stroke her back, he answered the only way he could, "Of course, Lucina. I'll stay as long as you need me to."

He closed his eyes, feeling a small sense of relief as she drifted off into an exhausted sleep and allowed himself to do the same. But not before his treacherous heart amended his previous promise… _I would stay forever if you would allow it_.

* * *

A/N: Sorry a bit late (though it's still Saturday! haha.)

Ending up mentioning Laurent later on, so let's say he's the product of Miriel and Kellam. Oh, and Nah belongs to Nowi and Libra.

Looking like this is going to shape up to be about six installments (the plot bunnies have no chill!)

See you next week :D


	3. translucent

Inigo woke to the sound of hinges creaking, and he blinked slowly until he could make out a slight figure easing the door shut. She was easily identifiable by her pegasus knight's uniform and pigtails, though her usual bounciness was missing. "Hey," Cynthia greeted him softly as she turned. Her face uncommonly wan and strained, and she carried a tray with what looked like snacks and tea.

"Hey, Cyn," he replied, voice raspy from sleep. As she set the provisions down and went to light several of the lamps that were scattered around the room, he took a few moments to fully wake.

It was late morning by now, he assumed, noting the slivers of sunlight escaping the edges of the heavy drapes at the windows. Glancing down at Lucina, he was relieved to find her still asleep, and smoothed her furrowed brow with lingering fingers. Looking up again, he was met with a raised eyebrow from Cynthia, and he drew his hand away guiltily. "Think we should move her to the bed?" he asked quietly, desperate to avoid any questions from the bubbly blonde.

"Yeah, I think so. Let me make room for her," she answered, pulling back the covers and fluffing the pillows in typical Cynthia fashion. "Alright, bring her over," she gestured to her handiwork.

His muscles stiff from sitting on the hard stone for so long, Inigo rose slowly and fought a groan so as not to disturb his princess. _**The**_ _princess... no, the_ _ **exalt**_ , he reminded himself. But when he rose to his full height, the movement was enough to cause Lucina to began to stir.

"In- Inigo?" she queried blearily, eyes blinking slowly in her semi-aware state.

"Shh," he hushed her. "It's okay, I'm just moving you to the bed. I know I make a good pillow, but you can't sleep on the floor forever," Inigo whispered, trying to resurrect his usual humor, the attempt coming out more like a ghost of it.

His answer seemed to appease her for the moment, and she fell silent, placing her face back into the folds of his shirt, presumably to fall asleep again.

As delicately as he could, he placed her in the vacancy that had been created in the bed, and she proceeded to nestle into the covers in a way he hadn't seen since they were small children, the sight rousing an even more protective instinct in him. Sweeping in, the blonde pulled the duvet above Lucina's shoulders, and so Inigo reluctantly turned to go, feeling his usefulness was outweighed by Cynthia's.

But as he made to leave, he felt a tug on the well-worn hem of his shirt, and the fingers clutching it were Lucina's. When he looked at her, she turned her face to the side, eyes closed in embarrassment. "Could you maybe… _both_ stay?" she said under her breath, and Inigo knew the request was an admission of weakness that she resented, but what she needed all the same. "Just for a little while…" she amended.

Before he could say anything, Cynthia replied, "Of course we'll stay, Lucina," readjusting the covers in a needless and motherly gesture. "How about Inigo and I just go sit right over there by the window? We will be right here if you need us," she promised, smiling gently, and moved over to the small table where the tray she'd brought lay.

"Okay…" was the whispered response, and though his intention was to follow, Inigo realized that Lucina's hand had not left the fabric of his shirt, and when her widened eyes met his, he realized she was waiting for reassurance from him as well.

Curling his fingers around hers and removing them with a touch as gentle as his tone, he reminded her with half a smile, "I already told you I would stay with you however long you needed me to." Bending, he tenderly brought his lips to her forehead. "I promise, my princess," he whispered against her brow as he pulled away, releasing her hand.

She blushed — _at the fact that she had shown weakness, not because it's_ _ **me**_ _,_ he told himself — but nodded slightly in satisfaction, closing her eyes to return to her slumber.

When Inigo turned, he found Cynthia regarding him with an appraising eye, and he sighed as he sat down across from her.

Picking up the teapot, he nonchalantly poured himself a cup, ignoring Cynthia's quizzical and accusatory stare. He got as far as adding two sugar cubes and a slice of lemon before she finally snapped — "Inigo!"

"Yes, my dear Cynthia? Whatever is it?" he replied politely, and he did his best to appear as if he had no idea what would cause her reaction, not even looking up as he stirred his tea.

"You know very well **what**!" she practically hissed. _Wow, she must have picked this up from Severa,_ he thought. _I've never heard her take that venomous tone._

Setting the spoon down on his saucer, Inigo took a nice, long sip of tea before gracing her with an answer. Regarding her casually, he drawled, "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, so if you would be so magnanimous as to expound for this poor simpleton, it would be very much appreciated, my lady."

Eyes narrowing in annoyance, she huffed for a moment before answering him. "Don't talk to me like I'm one of your stupid floozies, Inigo! That flowery nonsense won't work on me, so quit it," she reprimanded him.

Sighing, he dropped the act. "Sorry, Cynthia. You know I don't think of you like one of… 'my stupid floozies,' as you so tactfully put it," he stated dryly. Gaze wandering absentmindedly to the plate of sweets in front of them, he saw what he recognized as his father's favorite pie and could only stare for a minute before he said in a watery susurration, "This is just… hard."

Cynthia's hand came to rest on his, and she murmured, "I know. I know it reminds you of… that time… and I'm sorry." A note of her usual cheer entered her voice as she said, "But everything is going to turn out okay! We'll get the bad guys, I know it!"

He looked up to find her smiling brightly, although her eyes seemed misty in the flickering lamplight, and he squeezed the hand she had given him, offering a weak smile of his own, "I know, Cyn. Thank you for being the ray of sunshine around here."

Not saying anything, she simply gripped his hand in reassurance before releasing it and doling out some desserts for each of them. He did not miss the fact that the pie made it onto his plate, and he found himself asking, "Cyn… How can we help her?"

She must have detected the taint of desperation in his voice, for she paused mid-motion, a serious look dominating her features. "Inigo… I really don't know. Honestly," she admitted, "I didn't know what to do when … when this happened to you or when Owain's father died… I didn't even know what to do for Gerome." Sighing deeply, she set down her teacup, looking away as she continued, "I mean, I really don't know what it's like. Mom died when I was just a kid and Dad is still alive… Plus you know how he is about death and 'all that good stuff,' as he would say. So all I could do, all I _can_ do, is just be there for you guys. So I think that's what we should do for Lucina now."

Staring down into his lap, the redhead muttered almost forlornly, "I just don't feel like it's enough." When Cynthia remained silent, he continued with a furrowed brow, "I just feel so… powerless."

"Inigo," she responded softly. She waited for him to look up before saying, "I know. I think we all do right now. But you — out of everyone, you and Gerome know exactly how she feels, losing both parents at once, and since he is the last person that would talk about his feelings, that leaves _you_. It's something only you have to offer."

Though he knew her words to be true, Inigo ran anxious hands through his hair, exhaling in a burst of exasperation. "But it's not the same!" he said in a forceful, frustrated whisper, "My parents… They were just normal people, the fate of a world didn't rest on their shoulders. But Lucina, her parents were royalty, _she_ is royalty, and now that they're gone, it's not just the grief of losing her parents that she has to deal with." He met Cynthia's gaze as his tone darkened, "Now that they're gone, their responsibilities fall to her. She's the _exalt_ now, Cyn!"

Eyes widening, she made to interrupt him gently,"Ini —"

"Don't you get it? Not only has her worst nightmare come true, but she also has an entire _country_ to worry about. You know her, Cyn — she already takes her duty so seriously. And now…" His voice broke, "Now, she's all alone! And I know she's strong, so strong..." Inigo cast a glance at the sleeping figure on the bed, "But I'm afraid. Afraid that the weight is going to crush her, change her…"

The silvery blonde hair that had escaped her pigtails framed Cynthia's pained expression as she reached back across the table for her friend's hand.

He looked up, unshed tears like dewdrops between his lashes, and confessed quietly, "I'm so afraid that I won't ever see her smile again. I'm afraid she'll forget how to be happy. Forget how to be the Lucina that I… I… "

"She will," the blonde responded, a sudden but unshakeable resolve in her voice.

Unconvinced, Inigo started to vocalize his doubt, but he didn't get the chance.

"You love her," Cynthia stated quietly, firmly, accurately.

Eyes wide with anxiety, he quickly countered, "No, Cyn, I —"

"You love her," she said again, undeterred by his denial. "And _that's_ how I know she will be okay. Didn't I say there was something only you could offer her?" Seriously, she instructed "Love her, just like you do now. Because as long as you do, she will never be alone."

"You don't get it, Cynthia," he protested defeatedly. "I don't deserve to love her."

"Deserving has nothing to do with it," she rebutted archly. "You _do_. So I know she will be okay. Because even if she forgets how to be happy, even if she forgets how to smile, she has you to teach her how all over again." She grinned and brought her free hand to their joined ones. " _You_ be her ray of sunshine, Inigo."

He sighed before giving his hesitant agreement, "Okay, I will do my best." His dark gaze stole back over toward the bed. "I hope you're right, Cyn."

"I know I am," she said with all the confidence of her self-proclaimed hero status. "Now let's have our tea before it gets any colder!"

Tearing his eyes away from the sleeping princess, he lifted the teacup to his lips and let himself be diverted by the blonde. She dove into yet another anecdote of one of her many failed attempts to get Gerome to acknowledge her as more than a friend, with irritating results, as usual.

"He always acts like doesn't want to talk to me, like he has some important business to take care of and I'm just a nuisance! What kind of childhood friend _does_ that?" she huffed. "I know he likes me, I _know_ it! I just don't get him," she said, near to pouting.

He knew very well that their mask-wearing friend did indeed return Cynthia's affections and then some, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to slide in a jibe.

"Maybe it's because you're still playing 'hero' at our age? You know he probably thought it was cute… Oh, about ten years ago," Inigo commented innocently, earning him a gasp of indignation and a slap on the arm before she continued.

And so he let himself chuckle along with her misadventurous tale, vowing to himself that he would laugh and smile whenever he could, and pray he could be for Lucina what Cynthia was for Gerome — a beacon of light in the devastation-darkened world that lay ahead of them.

* * *

A/N: Let's just be real, emotionally-vulnerable!Lucina is a fun time. Also, the broship between Cynthia and Inigo is way too much fun to write... Not sure how it even came about, but it did and somehow I can't get enough XD

Special shout-outs to GameLord the Hitman, Abide, **Rapis-Razuri** , Kit-Cat Star, CandiedStars, Stormywolf12, and Angeluco for favs/follows/ **review**! Thanks so much for your support :)

Until next week! :D


	4. unclouded

True to his word, Inigo had done his best to be the embodiment of positivity and joviality, rivaled only by Cynthia herself. But in the weeks that followed Chrom and Robin's deaths, he and the others had banded together as one after another, their parents' lives were claimed by the war and the resurrected fell dragon, Grima.

In the wake of such tragedy, their little group was much worse for wear, all of them teetering on the edge of their own brand of crazy — the calloused and the cowards, the cynics and the crybabies. Lucina herself had taken up both Falchion and the responsibility of leading the nation, and just as Inigo had feared, she became more stern and serious with each passing day. Trying to keep the country together had taken its toll, especially on her.

And when Grima and his devotees had attacked Ylisstol, it had been too close of a call. It would become a rare night when Inigo would not wake in a cold sweat, panting from nightmares of that horrific scene: dead bodies aplenty, entrails and blood staining the marble floor; Risen pouring in, the palace awash with their rank odor; the unearthly cry from the fell dragon itself, reverberating through every living thing and rendering them frozen in instinctual terror as it crashed through the palace walls.

He could still feel the way it had rattled his bones, rooting him to the spot and earning him a deep gash across his thigh. Thankfully, a well-timed arrow from Noire took down the Risen who'd injured him before it could do any further damage, and hearing her scream something about him being an insolent fool had roused him from his catatonia.

But as he turned to yell his thanks back to her, he saw Lucina — separated from the fray, only yards from the dragon's maw, and stared in panic for a moment. He was too far, he couldn't make it in time… but he ran, ran harder than he'd ever run in his life. Despite having no idea what he could do against such a monster, all he could think was, _Not Lucina, please, Naga, no!_ Hacking his way through the enemies that dared slow his charge, he heard the dragon mock her, bait her with her parents' deaths, but Lucina held her ground.

 _Almost there!_ He was close enough to see her hands shaking as they held Falchion, the sweat pouring down her face, the determination in her eyes. She was ready to die, and he was still too far… the dragon reared its ugly head, Lucina shouted a war cry, and he was _still too far!_

Stumbling, he choked out, "Luci… na…" and everything went black.

* * *

Waking had come slowly, from complete darkness to only almost so, the hard surface of steel armor under his body and an unsettling numbness in his right leg. It took a moment for him to register the odd-rhythmed gait of a person running over uneven terrain, and the fact that said person was carrying him on their back.

There was an unmistakable voice moving alongside them, "Aw nuts, Kjelle! Can you stop runnin' for a gods-blessed second?!"

"No, I cannot," was the bland reply.

Despite the fact that he was wheezing for air, Brady managed to huff, "Well, I can't heal the idiot if you don't stop movin' so darn much! Besides, he's bleedin' like a stuck pig all over your precious armor!"

"I think we are far enough to take a short rest," Lucina's voice cut through the darkness, and Inigo felt the pressure in his chest lessen with relief. She was alive, she was _safe._

The next moment, Inigo was unceremoniously dumped on the ground with a "Here, Brady, heal the chump." Awake enough to at least protest such treatment, Inigo harrumphed and made to give the knight a piece of his mind, but was rewarded with a smack on the head from Brady's staff. Looking around, he saw the faces of everyone he'd grown up with; they were dirty, bloody, and exhausted, but they were _there_.

"Can it, twerp! You got your femoral artery sliced open and you lost a buncha blood, so stay still while I heal ya up, got it?"

And at that point, Inigo had decided to shut up and let himself be healed, thankful that everyone in their ragtag group was alive.

* * *

Two days later, things had not changed much. His leg had healed nicely thanks to their resident scar-faced priest, leaving him with only a faint mark and a dull ache, and they were traveling east, though they had not discussed a destination.

Inigo wondered if perhaps they were all too afraid to voice what he was thinking — that there was nowhere they _could_ go, and that their only option was to run until they were inevitably caught again. The swath of destruction that Grima had cut across Ylisse was not something any of them could deny, and after having been in the presence of the dragon itself, there was an unmistakable air of depression about them.

Sitting at the fire of their makeshift camp, a nervous voice spoke up. "Guys… Don't you think we should go get Nah?"

Heads swiveled toward Yarne as he continued, "It just doesn't seem right without her… We should all be together."

No one spoke for a few seconds, only the sounds of the forest and fire following his suggestion.

"Lucina? What do you think?" asked Gerome at length, face unreadable as always.

Inhaling from behind her steepled hands, she said over the crackling logs, "We are already heading in her direction…"

"Yeah!" Cynthia broke in, "She's living with one of her dad's old war monk buddies and his family, over near the coast." Ever the optimist, she added, "We could probably make it there in a day if we hurry!"

"That is a most pragmatic proposition," Laurent agreed. "In fact, if I recall correctly, Nah was able to communicate with the divine dragon at times. There is a great possibility that guidance would prove useful to us."

"Yes, Naga's wisdom…" Lucina pondered. "That's not something we should overlook. Perhaps this is the answer to our prayers."

Standing, she instructed, "Everyone get some rest; I'll take the first watch. We make for Nah's at dawn."

With murmured goodnights and heaved sighs, the rest of them turned in for the night, but Inigo remained, watching Lucina poke at the fire as if the embers held the secrets of her future. A touch on his shoulder startled him, and he turned to find Cynthia offering him a reassuring smile. He patted her hand and rose as well, moving to sit next to Lucina across the fire. _Everyone except Gerome is pretty much dead to the world right now, and this is a better vantage point from which_ _to observe the company_ , he told himself.

The blonde practically pranced like a pegasus over to where her target reclined against the curve Minerva's neck. "Gerooo-ome," she whispered, crouching down when the only answer she received was an annoyed 'hmph'. She poked him in the side with each word as she sing-songed, "Hey, hey, heya, Gerome..."

When he finally growled an almost inaudible, "What is it you want, Cynthia, I was almost asleep..." her reply was sunny and immediate.

"I want to sleep with you!"

Inigo watched in amusement as the wyvern rider sat up, adjusting his mask unnecessarily, a slight blush barely visible in the low light. "Wha- why?!"

"Come on," Cynthia urged, "Just this once. It'll be like a sleepover, just like when we were kids! Can't I?" She trailed off, pouting with downcast eyes, "Besides, you have Minerva to keep you warm, and I'm all alone..."

Turning away, Gerome scooted over infinitesimally, "Fine."

Wasting no time, she occupied the space, nuzzling into his side. "Thanks, Gerome." They remained that way for the better part of a minute before she yawned, "You act tough, but you're really sweet... Mhmm, yep, you are." A satisfied smile grew on her face and another minute passed in silence. Eventually, she added sleepily, "That's what I love about you."

"That- that's what you what?" The visible portion of his face was flaming, but he received no answer aside from a soft snore. Exhaling loudly, he, too, lay back and seemed to fall asleep, arm curled loosely around Cynthia.

Gerome's sigh must have roused Lucina from her reverie, for she seemed to take note of Inigo's presence at her side for the first time. "What are you doing, Inigo? I said I would take first watch, you need to sleep."

"Well," he drawled, pointing out, "You didn't even notice when I sat down beside you a few minutes ago, so I would say you're in no shape to watch for enemies."

Bending to place her head in her hands, she groaned. "Oh, you're right. What am I doing…"

Though the question seemed rhetorical, Inigo would not leave it unanswered, and he placed his hand on her bowed spine. "It's fine, Lucina. Why don't I take the first watch? My thigh is still bothering me, I can't sleep anyway," he lied.

"I doubt I can sleep either," she confessed.

"Lucina," he spoke softly, but commanded her attention. "Don't worry so much. I know things seem grave right now, and they are, but it will be okay."

Looking up through strands of her navy bangs, she protested, "There's no way to know that."

"Once we find Nah things will get better," he promised. "Naga has heard our prayers, and she will answer them."

"I hope so…" Lucina trailed off, staring into the fire once again.

Playfully ruffling her hair, he instructed, "Stop worrying and go get some sleep, my so-serious princess. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Thank you, Inigo," she replied quietly, standing.

On impulse, he stood as well, enveloping her in a hug. "Anytime, my princess," he whispered in her ear, embracing her tightly for a moment before releasing her.

She stumbled back, her face aglow with a bewildered blush, and murmured, "Goodnight," taking her leave.

He sat again, his mind flooded with self-incriminations, and prayed to Naga for the power to make his promises come true.

* * *

A/N: Happy Saturday! :)

Cynthia is such a manipulative little vixen. I love it.

Special thanks to **Abide** and **Kit-Cat Star** for reviewing last chapter, and also to everyone else who is still along for the ride!

Until next week! :D

[ On a totally unrelated note, HOW CUTE are the pre-order bonus keychains for Fates?! Can't wait to get my hands on them, but the 19th still seems so far away :( ]


	5. transparent

They had made good time, and thanks to Yarne's trusty rabbit nose, were no more than a mile away from the manor where Nah was living. It was twilight, with the setting sun streaking the sky with reds and oranges in a way that eerily reminded Inigo of blood, and he wondered if he would ever be able to erase the memories that the war had already wrought in his mind.

Suddenly, Yarne came to a stop, nose in the air, sniffing hard.

The rest of the company came up shortly behind him, curiously waiting for an indication as to their halt.

"What is it, Yarne?" Kjelle asked, spear at the ready. "Enemies?"

His shift into taguel form was enough of an answer to prompt the rest of them to take their weapons in hand. Answering in his altered voice, he confirmed, "Enemies."

"Then what are we waiting for? We have to save Nah!" Cynthia chimed in, always eager to play savior.

At that moment, Gerome who'd been scouting ahead with Minerva, flew back down to them. "Risen!" he shouted, "The manor is aflame."

"Let us not waste any more time," Lucina instructed gravely, sprinting in the direction he'd come from, the rest of them following suit.

As they crested a small hill, the scent of smoke and ash filled Inigo's nostrils, and the scene of destruction was all too familiar to him: flames engulfing the rubble of a ruined home, corpses littering the wreckage.

"There's Nah!" Yarne's beast-voice rang out as they charged. And indeed, there she was, a beautiful, otherworldly creature, out of place among the carnage. Surrounded by Risen, the manakete was doing her best to fend them off, her dragon's breath taking out a few before Gerome swept in, lopping off the head of another.

An axe-wielding Risen attempted to attack Nah from behind, but Owain's sword sliced its torso clean through as he shouted in rage.

The rest of them made short work of the remaining enemies, and finally Nah returned to her human form, battered and bruised, clutching her Dragonstone. Inigo rushed over to catch her before she could keel over, and Brady ran over, staff in hand.

She muttered defeatedly, "I couldn't save them, I couldn't…"

"Hush up, Nah," Brady commanded gruffly. "Lemme heal ya, then we can talk about what happened."

She fell quiet as the green glow of healing magic enveloped her, and Inigo suggested, "Why don't we… get out of here?"

"Let's make camp, then," Severa suggested, tone lacking her usual brattiness. "It's not like we're going anywhere tonight, anyway."

Kjelle's shadow fell over Inigo as she held out her arms. He looked at her, confounded, as she rolled her eyes, "Let me carry Nah. I'm the strongest person here, anyway."

He complied - though not without it stinging his pride - and they all trudged back up the hill until they were again within the borders of the woods.

Nah was still mumbling nonsense, half-awake, while Noire watched over her and the rest of them set up their camp for the night. But when the sun had set and the night was well along, the small girl shot up, startling her caretaker and the entire group as she shouted, "Lucina!"

"Yes, Nah, I'm right here," the princess said gently, taking a seat next to her.

Nah's eyes were wide and her tone serious as she said, "Naga… has a message for you."

A collective gasp rose from the group, and hopeful, they all listened intently as Nah relayed, "She told me you were coming, and that I had to tell you… Grima has been brought back to this world."

"Yes, we know, Nah," replied Lucina. "We know… I – we saw him."

"Then you know what disastrous future awaits all of man if Grima is allowed to remain free." Nah's voice seemed not her own, and she continued, "The hero-king, Marth, once laid Grima to slumber with the sacred blade, Falchion, that which you now wield. However, its powers are not fully awakened and cannot be without the Fire Emblem."

At this, Lucina's face dropped, "I don't know what happened to the Fire Emblem when Father died, they only retrieved Falchion…"

"Even so, the Fire Emblem is not complete without its precious gemstones: Argent, Sable, Vert, Azure, and Gules. They are scattered across this world, and it is doubtful you would survive to obtain them all."

"Then our future is grim, indeed," Lucina said darkly. "Is there no way to challenge this fate?"

"There is," Nah affirmed. "Naga herself has devised a way for you to try, if you are willing. It will not be without danger, and there is no guarantee that you will be successful."

"I would be a coward - and a failure to my people - if I did not at least attempt it," Lucina answered.

"Then listen well, for to change this future, you must first change the past."

* * *

The atmosphere was solemn and largely silent that night as they all tried to absorb the information Nah had given them. To go to the past seemed a dangerous business, and what was more, there was the possibility that they would be separated - landing at not only different locations geographically, but in different places in _time_.

But as Lucina had said, if this was their only chance, then it was one they would have to take. All of them had been in agreement, despite their silent fears. They would not waste any time - they would journey to the past the very next day.

Making his way further into the woods, Inigo looked for a secluded place to dance, for if anything would take his mind off of the possible doom awaiting them, dancing would. But hearing voices, he slowed, coming to a stop at the tree line of a small clearing.

Moonlight bathed two dark figures, illuminating their identities: Lucina and Gerome. Inigo remained silent as Gerome handed her something… _A mask?_

"What's this, Gerome?" she asked.

"I thought there might be a time when it would be wise of you to conceal your identity, in the past," he explained.

"Thank you," Lucina said, "I am sure it will be useful."

"Do not mention it," Gerome said, his tone deep and rough as always, before disappearing into the shadows and presumably back to camp.

Feeling he should also take his leave, Inigo began to back away when he stepped on a dry twig, cringing as he heard it snap.

"Who's there?!" Lucina demanded, whirling to face his location.

"It's just me, Inigo," he supplied, sheepishly exiting the trees with his hands up. "I didn't mean to spy on you, I was just looking for a place to dance and I-"

"Dance?" she interrupted.

"Ah, um, well… you know… well, yes," the redhead answered bashfully. "Dancing calms my nerves, and of all the nights, I think this is the one when I've needed that the most…"

"Oh," Lucina said, looking down at the mask in her hands and admitting, "I could use something to calm my nerves, for a certainty."

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, both looking away, thoughts of a dark future on their minds.

"Would you mind if I watched?"

Startled, Inigo's eyes flew to Lucina, a pink flush creeping into his cheeks. "Watch?! Why would you want to do that?"

"I was hoping it would take my mind off of…" she trailed off meaningfully.

And while Inigo could think of a thousand other things he could to do distract her, most of them marginally less embarrassing than dancing, he found himself agreeing. "Well then, dance for you, I shall, princess, but this poor peasant cannot promise you will find his simple dances entertaining in the slightest," he disclaimed. "Besides, there is no music, and you may discover that a dance is most dull without it."

She didn't respond except to take a seat on a nearby tree stump, and so he tried to ignore the pounding of his heart as he removed his shoes, shed his extra clothing, and for the first time since his mother had died, danced for someone else.

It was as if by a small miracle that he performed, for Inigo found himself lost in the dance – transcendent, pouring his emotions into each movement. Every extension, every turn, was filled with a myriad of feelings – the despair he had felt when he lost his parents, the fragile hope he held for their future past, the love that surged within him every time he laid eyes on Lucina and the guilt that was always sure to follow.

His movements slowing to a halt, he finally remembered his audience, and opening his eyes to regard her, he was taken aback.

She was beautiful, serene, and intently focused on him. Inigo did not dare to say anything, for fear he would break the silent spell that seemed to have been cast upon them.

He simply observed as she stood, slowly making her way through the sparse grass to stop a mere foot away from him. "Inigo…" she uttered in the softest of voices, "That was…"

And while every self-conscious bone in his body screamed for him to turn away, he did not, even when she raised a hand to his hair, tucking it behind his ear, fingers trailing down the curve of his earring before falling to his shoulder.

Close enough to see Naga's brand flickering a different shade of azure, he watched silently as she raised her eyes to his. "Beautiful," she finished in a solemn whisper.

Still, he did not speak, only reached for her with a gentle, hopeful touch. Curbing the overwhelming desire to voice his love for her, Inigo simply cradled her body against his own, feeling a sense of profound relief as she relaxed into him. He felt it then, irrefutably – she _trusted_ him.

It was a moment of intense vulnerability for both of them, and when she finally pulled back, he could not rein in the urge to to draw even closer. So he bent, slowly, a hand in her hair, and angled his head until he could feel her breathing, close enough to kiss her but just barely refraining from doing so. Lucina did not protest, though her gaze flicked up to his searchingly.

She must have found what she was looking for, because her eyes slid shut and she closed the distance between them.

It was tender, slow, hesitant – all she had done was press her lips to his, but still, Inigo could not believe it was reality, for it was everything he had never even dared to dream of. He had had his fair share of kisses, many less chaste than this, but nothing could compare. It was a feeling that reverberated straight to his core – that this was it, that she was _it_. He knew that as long as he lived, he would never love another as he loved her.

Their uncertain future had hung over them both – as if they were in the middle of the ocean, struggling not to be swept away and under by the overwhelming currents of fate. It was the crushing reality that the world was vast and they were small, but in that moment, _they_ were the whole world and everything else was insignificant.

Lucina's hands had come to rest on his chest, fingers anchoring in the material there when their kiss turned open-mouthed and hungry. All of Inigo's desperate dreams overflowed as he lost himself in her, knowing that this could very well be the last time, the only time.

But all too soon, her palms flattened against his shirt and the sweetness of her lips was lost to him as she pushed him away. A look of betrayal was upon her features, though Inigo was not sure if she felt it was he who had betrayed her… or she who had betrayed herself.

"This…" Inhaling shakily, she admonished, "This is not the time for such things."

"I am sorry, Lucina, I..."

Navy brows dipped low as she said, "Let us never speak of this. Are we agreed?"

Resignation was evident in his voice, "Yes, princess. I swear to you, I will never do such a thing again, neither will I bring it up."

"Good," she stated firmly, whipping around to go back to camp. "Tomorrow, we go to a different world, Inigo. Let us not be weighed down with unnecessary things from this one."

The coldness of her voice shattered all his fragile hope, and he could only stand there as she left him behind in the blue glow of the moon.

* * *

A/N: Happy Saturday~ Going out of town today, so had to post this a bit early :)

I know my Nah/Naga theory is totally crack, so please don't hate me haha. It just popped into my head. Next chapter, we go to the past!

Also, I've started working on a Cynthia/Gerome one-shot to accompany this, which I will post once this is completed :D

And again, special thanks to **Kit-Cat Star** and everyone else for your support! Until next week~


	6. iridescent

Their journey to the past had not been easy, as Naga had predicted. Inigo had found himself who-knew-when and on the strange, Valmese continent – an immeasurable ocean away from the place he had called home. Thankfully, he had not had much difficulty caring for his basic needs; conflict was rampant, and he had been able to support himself as a mercenary as he traveled, all the while looking for any news of dancers in the hopes that it would lead him to his mother.

And so it became the rhythm of his new life – work, fight, flirt – anything to keep him busy, to keep him from thinking of all the ways that things could still go wrong. He still had nightmares of Grima's return, of his friends being lost to him forever, of all of this being for nothing. But he refused to let those thoughts overtake his mind, instead just doing his best day to day.

He did his best not to think of Lucina.

She had left him changed, broken, and while deep down, he hoped that she was safe and they would meet again, he also dreaded such a reunion. Inigo did not know if he could keep the silent promises he had made – to be her ray of sunshine, to teach her to smile again – and still keep the last one he'd made her – to act as if their kiss had never happened, to act as if his treacherous heart had not made plain all his blasphemous emotions. Despite her rejection, he could not stop loving her any more than he could stop being a dancer; it was a part of his very being, and he could not bring himself to resent her.

And though he kept such dismal musings to a minimum, the act of going through the motions, staying alive in the hopes that soon he would once again be able to _live_ , had grown monotonous and empty.

It was a day like any other when, once again, a helpless maiden needed his assistance, another nameless face to add to the long list of half-remembered flirtations. But this time, _this time_ , he was not alone on the battlefield for long, this time he found himself surrounded not just by enemies. There were younger versions of those he had known so well, so welcome that he half-thought them illusions. Inigo held his breath, eyes restlessly searching for the faces he did not yet see.

And finally, a pink head emerged from the rest, gracefully making her way over to him. He could say little, his eyes wide with a disbelieving sort of happiness; for she was younger, less world-weary, but so, so beautiful and _alive_ – there was no mistaking Olivia. He turned away for a moment, _Just act normal, Inigo_ , he told himself.

Facing the new arrivals once again, he yelled, "GYAAARRGH!" finding himself face to face with her.

Olivia screeched, herself, before asking, "Wh-What's wrong?!"

He stumbled through a brief apology, and tried to keep his distance a bit, wondering if he should try to explain the situation yet.

Unfortunately, Inigo did not have much time for conversation – they were in the midst of battle, and their enemies were upon them. It was surreal, fighting alongside someone who was his mother, and yet not his mother; she clearly had not the slightest clue as to who he was. So he focused on the task at hand – there could be no explaining if they did not both survive.

* * *

It had been awkward, for his mother was even shyer than he remembered, but after the battle he had shown her the ring he wore – identical to her own – and she had connected the dots. "You mean like Lucina?" Olivia had asked, and his heart betrayed him, surging with a joy he had not felt in a very long time. She was _alive_ , she was _there_.

However, he kept those thoughts to himself, and their talk turned to dancing and all the embarrassment that came with it. Soon enough, they arrived at the Shepherds' camp, and it almost brought tears to his eyes to see his father: mouthful of pie and treats peeking from every fold of his clothing. Olivia explained who Inigo was, and it was a strange but sweet reunion – much like Gaius himself.

Frederick, ever-prepared, informed him that he had prepared a tent for him, and Inigo made his way there with his few belongings, gaze casting about for a glimpse of any of the other children. Finally reaching it, he had just lifted the flap when he heard a familiar voice that made his heart stop.

"Inigo," it addressed him simply, and he turned slowly, equal parts unsure and elated.

"Lucina," he breathed softly, as if anything louder would cause her to evaporate. But she was no mirage, as real as the ground beneath his feet.

"We should talk," she stated, eyes firmly on his.

"Of course," he agreed, inclining his head toward the tent. "Come in."

She complied, and as she brushed past him, she said, so quietly he almost didn't hear it, "I'm glad you made it."

He smiled sadly at her back, "Same here," and followed her in.

* * *

It had been weeks now since he had joined the Shepherds, and things felt almost normal. Lucina had stayed true to her words from before their journey across time – she did not bring it up, and so neither did he. The first night he had arrived, she'd explained that it was just him, herself, and Owain so far, and that their plan to avert their own dark future seemed to have a possibility of working, but other than that, there was not much interaction between the two of them outside of battle. They fought their way across continents together, and he found himself once again coming to terms with his unrequited love. It helped that a few of the other members of their ragtag band popped up along the way – Brady, Kjelle, Cynthia, and Severa, so far – and yet Lucina was as grim as ever.

Over a period of about a month, he did his best to get a smile out of the princess, with little success. He had tried manhandling her face into a forced smile, and he had tried tickling her, both resulting in threats of violence. To be fair, her threats did amuse him, but when he tried miming, she had lost it.

"What must I do to convince you to leave me in peace? Unlike you, my head is not filled with rainbows and sunshine. I carry sense enough to realize the dire straits we find ourselves in. I have no desire to smile right now, and even less to fake one! If you're too dense to understand that, I don't know how to help you!"

At that, Inigo had lost his own tenuous grip on his smile, and his face fell. Apologizing, he left, feeling useless. All of his efforts, his promise to Cynthia and to himself – it was all pointless. Slinking off into the woods, his chin dropped to his chest and his heart was heavy. How could he face her now?

* * *

It was an awkward run-in at the camp's makeshift training grounds that forced Inigo to carefully greet her, "Hey, Lucina." Inwardly, he cringed, dreading her reaction.

"Inigo, I—"

Cutting her off, he supplied, "No, don't worry! Just passing through. I won't bother you, I promise."

But as he made to leave, she stopped him with an apology that he had most certainly not expected – obviously, she had given the matter some thought. However, it did little to allay his hurt feelings, and he decided to simply drop it and take his leave. He had already given up and so had nothing further to say; he simply willed a smile to his lips and moved past her.

Lucina halted him again, "Inigo, wait…"

False cheer still plastered on his face, he turned around. "Hmm?"

She was clearly thrown off, and his countenance turned inquisitive as she apologized – _Again!_ he thought, _This must be a record…_ – and she had… thought he was crying? Outwardly feigning confusion, he denied it. _When did she learn to read me so easily?_ he wondered.

But finally, it seemed she understood, for she said as much, explaining that she now saw how others influence the emotions of those around them, and that a smile was a powerful thing.

Pleasantly surprised at her realization, Inigo commended her, adding truthfully about her smile, "Yours counts for double!"

And at long last, there it was – small but true, barely there but beautiful. His heart soared; maybe he was not so useless and pathetic after all, and there seemed to be a glimmer of light in his world again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Early update in celebration of the release of  Fire Emblem: Fates! Only nine hours until I can pick up my preorder :D

The seventh and final chapter will be posted _tomorrow!_

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, be they positive, negative, or somewhere in between. Special thanks to **Catoscorrtome** and everyone else who has stuck around this long!

Until Saturday~


	7. luminous

One week after he had finally gotten Lucina to smile, they were camped outside Wyvern Valley, having just found Gerome. Needless to say, Cynthia had been relieved and set about attempting to brighten his usual gloomy demeanor, settling for flustering him if all else failed.

There had been a tremulous peace between Inigo and Lucina, one that he was careful not to push the boundaries on. But recently whenever she saw him, she made the effort to smile, and he looked forward to it each time he caught sight of her; he hadn't been lying about the tremendous effect her smiles had.

So when Lucina entered his tent one afternoon, face grave as she requested to speak with him for a moment, his heart filled with dread.

He gestured for her to sit, and maintained his facade of flippancy, "So much for the new, cheerier Lucina…"

Her face remained solemn as she said, "Even the new me cannot muster a smile today."

At that, Inigo could no longer conceal his worry – "What, did something happen? Is everyone all right?"

"No, our friends are all fine, so far as I know," she assured him. Ever the pragmatist, she added, "That said, there hasn't been anything I'd call happy news, either."

Though he took great comfort in the knowledge that nothing was grievously amiss with their friends or family, Inigo's curiosity remained. "Okay, seriously. What's going on? You're acting awfully strange today."

Looking down at the floor, her tone seemed to indicate that she was even more unsettled than he. "It's about to get… stranger."

"You're scaring me, Lucina," the redhead said carefully, wondering what could possibly be the matter.

"When I became so upset at your insistence that I smile before... Do you remember that?" Her gaze still did not rise from the ground, and her voice was small.

"Of course. I record everything any girl says to me, insults and all."

His joking manner did not faze her as she continued, "Well, I realize now that wasn't the only reason I was so angry... I was angry because you were making me happy, and I didn't... I didn't think I could afford such feelings at a time like this."

At her admission, Inigo could only breathe, "Oh?" Her eyes flew to his for a moment before dropping back to the ground like a lead weight.

"I've been such a stern person to you, and I don't deserve your kindness... But the truth is, I…"

A moment passed in silence and he leaned forward, opening his mouth to beg her to finish when Lucina spoke again, face blush-stained and voice barely above a whisper, "... I think I am in love with you."

Inigo was rarely at a loss for words, but he stared incredulously, and all he could say was, "... What?"

Her cheeks were growing pinker by the second as she reached for his hand, vulnerable gaze meeting his. "Would you stay with me, Inigo? Would you be the sword at my side?"

"I…" He continued staring, now at their joined hands, as if to reassure himself that no, this was not a dream. "...Yes, Lucina." Snapping from his reverie, a grin split his face as he jumped up, answering eagerly, "Yes! If you'll have me."

"Truly?! For good and all?!" She, too, rose, seemingly surprised, and Inigo almost laughed at the idea that she considered he might reject her.

"Lucina, I've been in love with you since the moment we met! But you're Ylissean royalty... I guess I never thought I was worthy. Besides, I figured Chrom would murder me if I tried anything!"

"You were worried about Father?!" She descended into a cascade of giggles, "I can just picture him receiving you at the castle, broadsword across his lap!"

"There's that smile again!" Inigo said happily, drawing her into his arms.

"I can't help it! Imagine Father chopping you into bloody bits!"

Lucina's laughter had turned the slightest shade maniacal, and Inigo could not help pulling back a bit to say, "I'm glad you're laughing and all, but maybe next we'll work on your sense of humor…"

She chuckled once more, leaning her head on his shoulder "Oh, I'm sorry, Inigo. I'm just so happy about us, and... I guess I'm not used to such things."

"Well, better get used to enjoying yourself, because you're stuck with me now!" he grinned.

Placing a hand over his heart, she hoped, "Would that our love infects others just as sure as a smile does…"

"Right! We won't stop until every girl in the world is happy!" Inigo declared, giddy with the prospect of all their love could do.

Lucina agreed wholeheartedly, "Right!" Then it was her turn to pull back, comprehension dawning on her face. "...Wait, just the girls? What do you mean, Inigo?!"

Stumbling through his words, Inigo stuttered out a nervous laugh, "Don't worry, love. You'll always come first in my book!"

She pulled away further to regard him with absolute seriousness, "There shouldn't be a book at all! I catch you looking at another woman and it will be ME chopping you into bloody bits!"

"There's that odd sense of humor again! Heh, good one, Lucina. ...Er, Lucina?" He looked down to find narrowed navy eyes pinning him to the spot. It was clear she was not jesting in the slightest, and he rushed to retract his earlier statements, "I mean, there is no book! There's only you, number one!"

Lucina still did not seem pleased and he responded by – very maturely, of course – poking her right between her furrowed brows. "Oh, my silly princess," he said affectionately, "I'm sorry, I was joking." His eyes darkened with seriousness. "I have loved you for so long that I thought it would surely drive me to the point of madness and then some," he confessed. "Or do you not recall a direct product of said maddening love – that which you made me promise never to mention?"

A red eyebrow quirked up expectantly, and Lucina avoided looking into his face as she apologized quietly, "That was wrong of me, Inigo. I am so very sorry that I treated you so… so terribly. To be truthful, I was afraid of my feelings then just as I was the past few weeks…"

She began to turn away, ashamed, but Inigo would not let her, pulling her solidly back into his arms. "I forgive you…" He reassured her, bowing his head to rest on her collarbone. "In truth, I forgave you long before we even met in this world."

"But I – !"

"If you feel so bad about it, then make up it to me by not being afraid of your feelings now," he whispered, lips grazing her neck with each syllable. Inigo raised his face to hers, first cheek to cheek, then nose to nose, and they were eye to eye. "It's okay to be happy, even if things look bad. Don't feel guilty about it, just…" He closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together. "All I've ever tried to do was make you happy. So let me. Okay?" he breathed with the shadow of a smile.

His eyes still closed, he felt her give the slightest of nods.

Inigo shifted to align his mouth with hers, and this time, when their lips met, it was not desperation or uncertainty that he felt; it was love, it was joy, it was right. She smiled into their kiss, and finally, he realized that what he had been searching for was not a place or a time or even a world – for him, everything he needed was Lucina. Being in her arms, at her side… that was home for him.

After all the promises he had made: to her, to himself, he decided that from that moment onward he would make just one more – to spend the rest of his life with her.

The whole world seemed luminous – every nuance of future and past was incandescent with the light of their love. Whatever time or destiny held for them did not matter – it was a feeling like none other, and as he pulled away to look at the beautiful, strong woman who loved him, loved him _back_ , he knew that they could face it all... together.

* * *

A/N: Lucina and Inigo attained support level **S**.

XD

And that's all folks! **Or is it?** For this plotbunny, yes, but I have a couple other omake-type ideas bouncing around in my head, so we shall see! For now, I am still working on the companion to this - " spectrum", a Cynthia/Gerome fic (oneshot? I'm not sure yet, it keeps getting longer and longer haha.) They are my second-favorite child pairing, and it just follows that they need to have their own happy ending :D

As far as Fire Emblem: Fates goes, I won't spoil anyone, but I love it! I picked up my copies yesterday and started on the "Conquest" path... and I was hardly able to put it down to post this. No joke. It's "play through the same chapter a thousand times in an hour and then some extra-lame enemy gets a crit at like 3% and kills someone and you have to start over AGAIN so all you can do is try not to throw your 3DS through a window/scream profanities/cry in a closet" good. Ah, the feelings Fire Emblem gives me :)

 **ANYWAY!**

Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck around until the end! I hope you've enjoyed reading this silly little fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it. (and special thanks to _Catoscorrtome_ and  sirmuz00!) Until next time~


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